Two cups of coffee and a wolf gray dusk,
Distance becomes the hunter of itself.
You speak to me in accents of a frost
Elusive as a moon thread on the air.

Warmth plays like music inside human bones.
Eyes interlock to hold the poem still.
Winter, I think, cannot be far away.
It whistles like an old friend at the pane.

Read to CD by The Poet House, Copyright,2006 Sandra Fowler

Sandra Fowler

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-warmth-like-music/